


Face Down

by Arwriter



Series: Learned Behavior [12]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse from a non canon character, Angst, Blood and Injury, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashback to abuse, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Minor Violence, Past Abuse, Past Gaslighting, Protective Everyone, Suicidal Thoughts, Threats, abuse recovery, sympathetic dark sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwriter/pseuds/Arwriter
Summary: Virgil remembers how he was treated and realizes, maybe for the first time, that he didn’t deserve what he went through.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Learned Behavior [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918165
Comments: 23
Kudos: 258





	Face Down

**Author's Note:**

> The descriptions of violence and abusive situations are a bit more intense in this one, so just be careful, please.

  
  


Virgil had thought he was going to die. 

He remembered when the thought popped into his head, sudden and frantic, screaming at him to get  _ away. _ It hadn’t been the first time he’d had the thought, but it  _ had  _ been the first time it came from the rational part of his brain, not the panicking part. 

Which had been horrifying, especially considering the fact that he was fairly certain Sides couldn’t die. Not completely, anyway. 

But it had been one of Wrath’s beatings (those were always the worst), and it hadn’t  _ stopped.  _

He supposed it made sense. Virgil tried not to think about it too much anymore, but Wrath was the manifestation of the deepest parts of Thomas’s anger, the rage he would never give power to, because that  _ wasn’t  _ Thomas. 

He had carried out a majority of Virgil’s more extreme punishments for longer than he could remember. 

Which was...fine. It had been fine. It made sense after all, Virgil needed to learn his lesson. The pain was always warranted, always given when he needed to do better, when he’d made a mistake. 

Except…

Except it had been different that time. It should have been eye opening, should have been a red flag, but all he’d done was ignore it. He’d forgotten it, shoving it to the back of his mind until it was nothing but a distant blue, identical to all the other memories he wished he could forget. 

He’d been on the ground, face down, gagging against the coppery taste in his mouth, trembling and gasping in a pathetic heap. Everything hurt, his clothes drenched in what could have been sweat or blood, the room spinning violently, voices far away and distorted.

He’d long ago lost the strength to raise his hands up to protect his face, and he could barely see through the blood dripping into his eyes. He was almost positive his nose was broken, along with at least a couple of his ribs. 

It had all been...unfortunately routine as far as punishments went, albeit a bit more intense than usual. The only difference was that it hadn’t  _ stopped.  _ Wrath had just kept going and going, until Virgil was completely convinced the other side was determined to kill him this time. 

He’d been terrified, of course, he always was when they hurt him no matter how often it happened. But this time he remembered being...confused. He hadn’t understood  _ why  _ it was happening. 

He was always hit for a reason. Small mistakes, like stumbling, moving too slow, stuttering or taking too long to answer when he was asked a simple question, were met with smaller punishments- slaps, kicks, shoves, a punch or two, occasionally chasing him out of the kitchen when he went to get food. Just enough to remind him of his place, to keep him scared enough to do his job efficiently. 

Things like making a mess, dropping something, making a loud noise, breaking or damaging something were met with...more severe punishments. And while he obviously didn’t  _ like  _ it, he knew better than to complain. 

He knew it was pathetic how often he messed something up, so he knew how important punishing him was. But this time...he’d had no idea what he’d done. 

It had been first thing in the morning- he hadn’t even had a chance to open his mouth yet. And he’d been extra careful lately, still a bit sore from the last beating Wrath had put him through. 

So as guilty as it made him feel to admit it, he had no  _ idea  _ what he could have done to warrant this. 

Wrath’s beating had come to a stop without warning, and suddenly Virgil was gasping against the pressure of a boot against his neck, keeping him down. 

“What the fuck did you just say,  _ Anxiety?”  _

Virgil had always been nothing but Anxiety to him- to all of them. Years spent together, and they had never bothered to even show interest in his name. (In his dreams, the nightmares that left him waking up to his own screams, they always called him Virgil. Always taking away as much power as they could) 

Janus and Remus knew his name- but at the time Virgil thought it was only a reward for them never having to raise a hand against him. 

He should have known better. He shouldn’t have been so gullible and  _ stupid.  _

And apparently he’d spoken without realizing, terrified questions forcing themselves to the surface without his permission, and Virgil could  _ feel  _ Wrath’s anger only grow, and quickly scrambled to take it back. 

“I- I’m- I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I--” 

“Shut up! Just shut  _ up!  _ God, do you ever stop  _ talking?”  _

Virgil obeyed, biting his bloodied lip to keep from whimpering when Wrath’s boot was replaced with a knee digging painfully into his back. 

He couldn’t see them from where he’d been pinned down on his stomach, but he knew the Others were there, crowded around and watching like it was entertainment. 

He could hear them laughing. _Why were they_ _laughing? Weren’t they supposed to be mad? What was so funny?_

_ Why did they always seem so excited when he made a mistake?  _

“Don’t ever ask me that,” Wrath hissed, and Virgil bit back another cry of pain, knowing it would just make him angrier. “Don’t you  _ ever  _ ask me what you did wrong, do you understand? Do you know how  _ stupid  _ you sound?” 

“I...s-sorry--” 

A hand twisted into his hair, yanking hard enough for Virgil to see stars, choking on his own desperate words. 

“I don’t know what you did, Anxiety, but does it even  _ matter?  _ I don’t need a reason, you’ve always done  _ something,  _ haven’t you? You deserve this- you  _ always  _ deserve it, and I don’t owe you a fucking explanation _.  _ You’re lucky we put up with you at all.” 

Virgil tried to nod, squeezing his eyes shut against the humiliation and the pain, but the motion proved impossible with the way Wrath was holding him down, and he didn’t dare try to talk again. 

“Do you understand that?” Wrath asked, suddenly speaking like he was addressing a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Nobody needs a reason to hate you Virgil, it’s not  _ our _ fault you’re like this. And I sure as hell don’t need an excuse to remind you exactly what you deserve.” 

The hand in his hair tightened, and this time Virgil couldn’t help but cry out, eyes flying open in alarm. He thought he heard someone snicker. 

“Do you understand?” Wrath demanded again, a heavy weight on Virgil’s back. “Tell me that you  _ understand!”  _

But Virgil couldn’t form a response, throat tight and mouth flooding with his own blood and spit, ears still ringing with Wrath’s demands that he stay silent. 

And then another voice was calling, somewhere from the other side of the room, but Virgil couldn’t focus enough to make out who it was. 

“Remus is coming. Get him out of here.” 

Virgil barely had time to process that, the terror that came with the thought of  _ another  _ side seeing him like this, seeing how weak and pathetic he was, another excuse to hurt him even worse. He didn’t think he could handle much more. 

(Looking back on it, Virgil would have given anything for Remus to walk in on time)

The weight on his back was gone, and Virgil was suddenly being lifted off the ground, one hand under his arm, another grabbing at his hoodie and yanking him forward. 

He gasped in pain as Wrath threw him haphazardly over his shoulder and began walking to the stairs. 

“N-no...please, I--” 

“Shut  _ up,  _ Anxiety.” 

Virgil did as he was told, only able to silently hope his constant trembling wasn’t obnoxious enough to warrant another strike, forcing himself not to whimper when any of his injuries were jostled by Wrath’s less than careful movements. 

Virgil tried not to think about how this was the most physical contact outside of any violence that he’d had in years. 

It took him a moment to realize Wrath had brought him to his room, only really comprehending where he was when he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, crying out against the wave of blinding pain. 

“Stop whining,” Wrath snarled, and Virgil cringed, waiting for another blow. “You know you deserve this. If anyone tries to say you don’t, they’re lying. And if you believe them you’re even stupider than I thought.” 

And with that he was gone, sinking out of the dark room without another word, leaving Virgil a shaking, bloody mess on the floor. 

He didn’t know how long he stayed there. He couldn’t remember- everything fuzzy and faded with time and pain. 

He did, however, remember with perfect clarity the terror that had shot through him at the sudden knocking on his bedroom door. 

He tried to calm himself down, tried to remind himself that no one ever knocked when they planned on hurting him. If they were angry, they would just barge in without warning. 

“Anxiety?” It took him a moment to recognize Morality’s voice, deceptively sweet as ever, and he curled up tighter to muffle any sound. “You in there, kiddo? I think Thomas wants us for a video if you can make it.” 

And Morality sounded so... _ nice.  _ He always seemed so kind, so genuinely caring. Virgil had been warned, of course, that none of the kindness extended to him was real. It was a trap, a twisted trick, and if Virgil fell for it he’d be hurt worse than ever before. He was safest where he was. 

But that day, half-conscious and bleeding all over his bedroom floor, Virgil had thought about calling out. For the first time, he’d considered asking for help. 

Because the beating had finally stopped, but the pain had only gotten worse. He honestly wasn’t sure he could clean himself up like he usually did. He didn’t even know if he’d be able to stand. 

Obviously, Morality wouldn’t want to help him when he saw the kind of beating Virgil had deserved. He’d probably only get ridiculed and scolded when the other side saw what kind of injuries had been needed to put Virgil back in his place. 

But Virgil would take yells and taunts over slowly bleeding out on the floor. And he could come up with some kind of excuse. He could say he fell down the stairs, and that he just needed help making it to the bathroom to wash up. 

And he almost managed to do it, taking in a shaky breath when Morality knocked softly again. 

But he couldn’t. Because no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how desperately he wanted someone to care just a  _ little,  _ he knew nobody would. He was so tired of being terrified, but there wasn’t any other choice. 

And he really didn’t think he could handle any more pain. Especially not from someone he hadn’t gotten a chance to see angry yet. He wouldn’t know what to expect. 

So Virgil had shut his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the silence to come, and Morality had eventually relented. 

“Alright, kiddo,” he’d called, sounding almost disappointed. “I know you’re busy.” 

(Virgil would do anything to go back and change it. He’d give anything to convince his past self to give in and call out, to scream and cry and  _ beg for _ help. Because if Patton had heard him, if Patton had seen what the others did to Virgil, it all could have been over so much  _ sooner _ )

It had taken Virgil all night to find the strength to pull himself off the floor to make it to his bed, and when he didn’t leave his room for nearly three days, no one seemed to notice. If they did, he doubted they cared. 

If Wrath hadn’t stormed into his room and demanded Virgil washed the blood off his face or he’d get it twice as bad, he might have forgotten he existed at all, content with letting himself waste away. 

Virgil had no idea when he’d started crying but here he was, leaned against the side of his bed, a hand pressed tightly over his mouth while tears rolled down his cheeks. 

He didn’t get it. He didn’t know why he’d let himself sit here almost all night, staring blankly at the floor, consumed by a memory he’d tried so hard not to think about for so long. 

He’d pretty much forgotten about it completely, letting it blend in with the rest of the non-stop fear and pain he was put through. It shouldn’t be a big deal anymore. It was over. 

But Virgil wanted to  _ scream.  _ He wanted to kick his bed frame until his foot split open, he wanted to throw his lamp on the ground and watch the bulb shatter into a hundred jagged pieces that could tear his skin open with a single touch. He wanted to yell and bite his skin, tear into his own flesh with his teeth until he couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t feel the  _ hurt  _ in his chest trying to suffocate him. 

Because...because it wasn’t like all the other times. It was so much different- so much worse- and he’d just been too  _ stupid _ to realize. 

He’d thought he’d deserved it. Every time, no matter how bad it had gotten, he’d really, truly believed it was for the best. He’d understood, even through his pleading for the pain to stop. 

There had always been something, some reason or excuse for why he needed to be punished. He’d been too loud, too disrespectful, too annoying, always an obnoxious nuisance everyone wished would just go away. 

He was clumsy, he knocked things over or forgot where certain dishes went. He stumbled over his words or occasionally tripped if he moved too fast. 

They were normal things. He’d seen everyone make small mistakes like that before and had never once gotten angry, never once felt the need or want to hurt them to make them better. 

But  _ Virgil _ had to be hurt. He would always be less than everyone else, always weak and evil and pathetic, so he deserved it. It wasn’t something he should question, it was just the way things were. And he’d believed it, every time. 

Even after things had gotten better, even after the light sides had constantly shown him otherwise and Janus and Remus had proved to him over and over again that they would  _ never,  _ he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. 

But that time…

That time he hadn’t done anything. He’d done  _ nothing.  _ He’d been awake all of five minutes and it had been one of the few times he’d thought they were genuinely trying to kill him.

And they...Wrath hadn’t even denied it. He hadn’t had a reason to punish Virgil, and he hadn’t even bothered to come up with one. He just hated him. He just wanted Virgil to  _ die.  _

And he’d known...he’d known Virgil wouldn’t fight it. He knew he would just lay there and take it, convinced after years of conditioning that no matter what, he deserved it. He deserved to be scared and hurting. 

Virgil suddenly wondered how many other beatings he’d gotten for no reason at all. How many times they had tormented him just because they’d wanted to, trusting Virgil to come up with the reason all on his own. 

And he always had, because that was what he'd been taught to do. Lock onto the smallest mistake and expect the worst. And even now, even when deep down he knew he was safe, he couldn’t stop. 

It was never about punishment. It was never about helping Thomas. It had all been for  _ entertainment.  _

It wasn’t...fair. It wasn’t  _ fair.  _

God, what was  _ wrong _ with him? Why was he so  _ stupid?  _ His whole life he’d let them do what they wanted, let them hurt him, manipulate him, twist his mind until he thought that it was normal. They’d had him  _ convinced _ that the people he now loved more than anything in the world would do the same without a second thought. 

They’d barely treated him like a  _ person.  _ They’d practically brainwashed him into believing Anxiety was lesser, that he didn't deserve things like safety, or privacy, or sometimes even  _ food.  _ They’d gotten him to believe he didn’t deserve to be loved. To be  _ happy.  _

And Virgil had never tried to do anything about it. Not once. 

Because...because it had never crossed his mind. He’d never let himself believe that anyone could be so cruel. He didn’t know, even after all this time, why they hated him  _ so much.  _

Maybe it was to take back the power Thomas refused to give those parts of himself. Or maybe Virgil really  _ was  _ that irritating. Maybe they just found it  _ funny.  _

He’d never know. He’d never know and that...somehow that was so much worse. Suddenly, he wished he could go back to believing he deserved it. 

He hated this. He  _ hated this.  _

This time, he didn’t fight against the angry, impulsive thoughts that popped into his head, desperate for any kind of relief from the swarm of emotions he couldn’t even begin to sift through. 

Virgil pushed himself back, kicking out against the metal bed frame as hard as he could, letting his crying morph to ragged sobs against the vicious combination of pain and panic. 

He felt pathetic as he kicked out again, slamming the top of his socked foot onto the edge of his bed. He felt small, and weak, and  _ scared.  _ Everything he didn’t have to be anymore. 

But he’d never actually stopped. He couldn’t. He wondered if he would ever be able to. 

He curled forward, sinking his teeth into his sleeve and finally letting himself scream, a muffled, pathetic noise that sounded more like broken wailing than anything else. 

He didn’t care. For once, he didn’t think twice about it. He just let himself fall apart, let himself feel the hurt and anger, screaming and sobbing wordlessly into his arm, free hand tugging ruthlessly at his hair. 

Just like Wrath had always done to get his attention. 

He barely registered the frantic knocking at his door, everything completely drowned out by his own cries and ragged breathing. 

“Kiddo?” It was Patton’s voice calling to him from the hallway, faint and panicked. “Can I come in? Virgil?” 

Virgil almost wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, how everything had come full circle. He could call out this time, no longer afraid of Patton wanting to hurt him. But once again, he couldn’t find the strength to speak. 

Thankfully things were different now, and Virgil managed to raise a shaky hand to unlock the door for Patton, courtesy of the special lock Roman had conjured up for him after the unfortunate misunderstanding they’d had over Virgil’s need for privacy. 

“Oh, honey.” There were footsteps, quick and soft, and suddenly Patton was kneeling beside him, close but not yet touching. “I’m here, I’m right here. Can you hear me, kiddo?” 

Virgil didn’t respond, just curled further in on himself and shut his eyes. He didn’t have the energy to try and muffle his sobs anymore. 

“Virgil--” a hand grazed his shoulder, and Virgil flinched back before he could stop himself. “Ok! Ok, I won’t touch you, kiddo. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” 

Virgil forced himself to breathe, pulling his knees up to his chest and digging his nails into his scalp, wishing he could just get Wrath’s voice out of his head. He wanted to forget, wanted to block out the laughter that always came with his pain…

_ Laughter.  _ Someone had always been laughing. It had  _ always  _ just been entertainment to them. 

“I-I didn’t--” God, he could barely  _ talk.  _ He just wanted everything to  _ stop.  _ “I d-didn’t do an-anything I didn’t  _ do anything--”  _

“I know,” Patton said, even as Virgil furiously shook his head. “I know you didn’t, baby, it’s ok--” 

“No it’s  _ not!”  _ He hadn’t meant to shout, he’d  _ never  _ meant to shout at Patton- at any of them, but it felt like he was barely even here. Everything was too  _ much.  _ “I- I didn’t- they always...Pat I- I could have just  _ opened th-the door!”  _

He could barely breathe, chest aching with each ragged sob, but he couldn’t seem to stop, everything spilling out all at once. 

“Kiddo--” 

“Y-you were right there. You...you were right outside the door and I didn’t...I let it- I...I hadn’t even  _ done _ anything and he--” 

“Patton? Is he alright?” 

That was Logan’s voice, more footsteps making their way to the open door, and Virgil quickly fell back into a fit of uncontrollable sobs, hoping it was enough to block everything else out. 

“What happened?” Roman was there too, all of them clearly woken up by the commotion from his room. 

Virgil wanted the floor to swallow him up, to disappear forever until everyone forgot he existed. He wanted to sob and scream until he could never speak again. 

He wanted to forget everything that had happened and just be  _ ok.  _ He wanted to stop being so  _ scared.  _

“I’m trying to calm him down,” Patton said quietly. “I think he just had a bad dream.” 

Virgil shook his head, breaths nothing more than hiccuping wheezes, pressing his head against his knees, refusing to see the looks of pity and confusion. 

“It- it wasn’t...I wasn’t  _ dreaming.  _ It...it was- y-you were right  _ there.  _ I th-thought I was- I was dying and you were...I-I wasn’t  _ ignoring _ you, I just c-couldn’t--” 

“Virgil,” Logan said, calm and steady as ever. “You need to slow down. Try and take some deep breaths to--” 

“No, I- I...R-Remus almost saw, they- they had to take me to my room and Pat...Patton was right  _ outside.  _ It- it hurt so b-bad and I...I was so  _ scared.”  _ __

“Oh,  _ god.”  _ Patton sounded so small, but Virgil knew the moral side suddenly understood what he meant. “Virgil, I--” 

“I thought I was going to die.” Virgil took a shuddering breath, the admission leaving him dizzy. “I thought...I-I wanted to ask for help so  _ bad.”  _

This time, Virgil didn’t pull away when Patton reached for him. He fell into his embrace, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, clutching at the other side’s pajama shirt like a lifeline. 

“It’s ok,” he heard Roman say somewhere behind him. “It’s ok, Virge.” 

“It’s  _ not.  _ It- it’s not...I-I never  _ did  _ anything. It- it was never a punishment they...they just  _ hated me.  _ They just liked h-hurting me and I don’t- I don’t know  _ why.  _ It’s not...i-it’s not--” 

“It’s not fair,” Logan finished for him, when Virgil couldn’t seem to form the words. “You should never have been treated like that. And as hard as it is, recognizing the abuse for what it was is an important step.” 

Virgil just tightened his hold on Patton, choking on his own sobs as they just grew louder and louder while he made no effort to quiet them. 

He didn’t want to keep taking these steps, he didn’t _want_ to have to recover. He wanted it to be _over._ He didn’t want to do this anymore. 

“I’m so stupid.” It was muffled by Patton’s shirt, but he felt the moral side tighten his hold. “I’m so fucking  _ stupid!”  _

“You aren’t--” 

“Yes I am! All the- all the shit they said to me and I never...I never...why couldn’t I have just asked for  _ help?”  _

There was another hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles in between his shoulders, the movement slow and precise. 

“Because you had been gaslighted and meticulously conditioned your entire life,” Logan said carefully. “You believed we would hurt you just as badly, if not worse. You had no reason to think otherwise.” 

Virgil didn’t respond, suddenly too light headed to think straight, focusing instead on Patton’s steady breaths in his ear, gasping in between desperate sobs. 

After a moment Logan spoke up again, quieter than before. “Could you two get him some water, please? Perhaps an extra blanket?” 

At first, Virgil thought he was talking to Roman or Patton, who Virgil currently had no intention of letting go of. 

But then there was shuffling by the doorway, and Virgil glanced up just enough to see two familiar, blurry figures watching from just outside. 

Janus nodded, grabbing Remus by the arm to guide him down the hallway, and Virgil’s heart sank when he caught a glimpse of the look on the Duke’s face.

He wondered how much they had heard, if Remus had realized just how close he’d come to catching the others in the act. If he realized how careful they’d been to make sure he never saw. 

Judging from the panic and regret he saw in Remus’s eyes as he was practically dragged away from the room, he probably did. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to dwell on it right now, not when it felt like the whole world was crashing down around him. 

“I’m tired, Pat,” he muttered, voice still trembling and weak. “I’m tired, I’m so fucking  _ tired.”  _

“I know, baby. I know. But you’re safe with us.” 

Virgil let out a humorless laugh, the sound more like a pitiful whine, his soaked face pressed against Patton’s collarbone. “I get why he didn’t- he didn’t kill me. This is...god, this is so much  _ worse.”  _

He felt Patton freeze against him, Logan’s hand on his back abruptly stopping its soothing motions. He heard Roman take in a shaky, panicked breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, an old habit he still hadn’t been able to grow out of. “I’m sorry, I’m  _ sorry.”  _

“Don’t be sorry, Stormcloud,” Roman said, and Patton began gently rocking him back and forth, Logan continuing to rub his back as quickly as he’d stopped. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

He held on tight, squeezing his eyes shut. “I just...I don’t...I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to be  _ better.”  _

There wasn’t a response, but Virgil knew there wasn’t much that could console him right now. Not when everything was spinning, voices of the past too loud to make out much of anything else. 

But they held him, letting him cry and fall apart in their arms, wrapping him in a blanket and helping him drink water when Janus and Remus returned, careful to give them space. 

He appreciated it, though Virgil hoped one day he could have a relationship with Janus and Remus where he felt comfortable having them with him when he was vulnerable. 

They’d get there. It was just one more thing to work on. 

For now...for now he didn’t want to think about the future. He didn’t want to think about how he’d probably wake up terrified, paranoid and jumpy, expecting anger and resentment for waking everyone up. 

He didn’t want to think about how it might never stop. How he might never get better. How he could be like this forever. 

He would dwell on all of that later, whether he wanted to or not. And he could already tell his nightmares would get bad again, memory after painful memory replaying over and over again in his head. 

But he’d see it in a new light, a much darker motive behind the treatment. He wished it made it better to know he really hadn’t deserved it. It didn’t- it made it so,  _ so _ much worse. 

For now, he let himself melt into Patton’s arms, shuddering and gasping, frantically trying to copy the other’s breathing before he passed out. 

The others had been wrong. The light side’s kindness wasn’t a lie, it was the only real thing he’d ever known. And he knew, no matter how bad it got, that his family would hold him together for as long as he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> You guys finally get to meet one of Virgil's abusers, I hope you all hate him as much as I do <3


End file.
